


ain't that somethin'

by shatteredhourglass



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bathroom Sex, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Established Chris Hartley/Josh Washington, Even During the Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, Josh Wash With The Good Dick Piercings, M/M, Mirrors, Nerdy References, POV Alternating, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexting, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:28:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26287225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shatteredhourglass/pseuds/shatteredhourglass
Summary: Chris takes up photography.Josh takes up... well. Chris, mostly.
Relationships: Chris Hartley/Josh Washington
Comments: 6
Kudos: 114





	ain't that somethin'

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DesperadoRaspado](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesperadoRaspado/gifts).



> When you're not sure of your friend's username so rather than just asking them, you go onto ao3, search up a different friend, and then click through all /their/ fics until you find one that was gifted to the first friend. I'm a mess. 
> 
> Raspa, I hope this lives up to all your expectations. It's been fun.
> 
> Based on: [this](https://twitter.com/DesperadoDoodle/status/1227843082315415552)

Whatever’s in this punch, it isn't right.

Chris balances the still-full cup on the edge of the bathroom sink, squints when it wobbles. Somehow it doesn’t fall to its death and he leaves it where it is. If it ends up on the pristine white tiling under his feet, well. That just means he has a reason not to drink it.

Man, he thought his days of having out alone in the bathroom during parties would end when he became friends with the popular kids but here he is anyway, setting up camp with the most expensive toilet he’s ever seen.

Yeah, parties aren’t exactly his thing. Social anxiety isn’t a huge problem for him anymore, but he gets bored. There’s only so many times you can play spin the bottle before you get bored of making out with your friends. Some of them, anyway. There’s one friend that he’s not that adverse to kissing.

That’s part of why he’s standing here in the bathroom, phone clutched in his fingers like a lifeline, and he wonders for the twentieth time since he locked himself in here what the hell he’s doing right now. Good grief. Maybe he should just give up and go downstairs. Submit himself to spin the bottle.

Someone shouts from downstairs.

“Shit,” Chris hisses as he fumbles his phone, drops it into the bath with a _clank_.

Great job, Hartley. At least there’s no water in there - not that it’d matter really, though, because he’d bought a waterproof model after what happened to the last one. (For someone so small, Ashley sure does make a big splash when she jumps in the pool.)

Whoever’s got the auxiliary cord right now is playing a techno remix of the macarena and it’s been turned up so loud that the tiles are vibrating underneath his shoes. It’s a relief that he’d wandered upstairs before that had started, because he sure as hell isn’t dancing in front of all those people down there.

He leans down to pick it up and there’s a startlingly loud thump against the wall.

Chris jumps back as a muffled giggle follows, and then a deeper voice shushing them. The walls of this bathroom are pretty thick, so whoever it is clearly doesn’t care about subtlety. Hopefully they’re not planning on using this bathroom for anything. He’s going to pretend he’s not here if they try to get in.

The doorknob rattles and Chris freezes on the spot, staring at the wall until the silence drags on for so long that they’ve either gone away or died suddenly on the spot.

Nothing.

Alright.

That means he should probably get back to business, huh.

Chris regards his phone, still lying at the bottom of the bathtub. It’s unlocked, so he’s greeted with the sight of Jill Valentine shooting down a zombie on his wallpaper. Somehow the image of her with a shotgun in hand is comforting enough that he manages to pluck the phone from its porcelain grave.

If Jill can get things done, so can he.

The phone is unharmed. Phew.

But it also means that he doesn’t have an excuse not to get on with what he’s doing. He eyes himself off in the mirror above the sink for a second, a flicker of uncertainty running through him. Breathes in. Nope, no anxiety here. He doesn’t know the meaning of the word.

Chris turns on the camera app on his phone.

Then he returns to the task at hand.

"-swear I'm going to smack her for it," Sam's saying. "Cats can't be vegan."

"Uh huh," Josh says. He wants to be invested in Sam's latest heroic crusade, he _does_ , but he's had a few drinks and it hasn't helped his rapidly eroding concentration. A couple of cups of whatever the hell this green shit Matt is calling _punch_ isn’t enough to get him drunk but he’s buzzing pleasantly in his spot on the couch.

The couch is soft and worn and he’s sort of melting into it, to the point where he’s not entirely sure he could escape if he wanted to. It might actually be swallowing him in some kind of Monster House-esque shenanigans. He hopes Sam saves him from his fate.

Unfortunately she’s a little busy with her - likely justified, and usually very interesting - rambling to notice Josh is being devoured. Luckily, Beth is heading his way with a purposeful look on her face.

“Hey,” he says.

Beth doesn’t even greet him. Whatever happened to sibling love? “Have you seen Chris lately?”

“Nah,” Josh answers. “Why, is he clogging up the internet again? I told you, just change your security question to something he can’t guess or look up and you’ll be fine.”

“I tried that last week. He asked Hannah and figured it out anyway,” Beth says glumly, adjusting her beanie where it’s slipping off of her head. “Anyway, that’s not what this was about, I just haven’t seen him for a while. Ashley wants someone to beat at Mario Kart.”

“He’ll be around,” Josh replies, waving a hand noncommittally. Chris isn’t a new guest to their house, he’s not going to get lost upstairs the way that some of their visitors do. (They’d spent hours trying to find that girl who somehow ended up locking herself in the attic.) “’s not like he doesn’t practically live here anyway.”

Beth makes a face. It’s not a lie, though - Chris may as well be an honorary Washington these days.

Maybe one day he’ll be an _actual_ Washington.

Last time Josh brought it up Chris had laughed him off, but truthfully he was only _half_ -joking. No one’s asked why he doesn’t use the air mattress anymore when he stays over, but if they did Josh would be more than happy to brag about it.

“I’m getting another drink,” she says, looks at Sam. “You want one?”

“Sure,” Sam replies, smiling a little.

“Oh, Samantha,” Josh says when Beth is out of earshot.

“No,” Sam says. “Tell me why you got thrown out of the theatre on Thursday.”

He’ll get it out of her eventually. Or Hannah will tell him the whole thing because she’s terrible at keeping secrets to herself, so instead Josh launches into a tale of how he accidentally-on-purpose managed to make an entire city out of popcorn on a sleeping man’s head during a viewing of _The Midnight Meat Train_.

In a distant sort of way he registers Chris sitting down next to Matt on the other side of the room. He’s caught up in telling his tale to Sam now though, distracted by the memories of how the theatre attendant had gotten all screechy at him even though the manager on-duty had been stifling a laugh.

“And so I said to him - someone must want me. One sec,” he says as his phone buzzes in his pants.

The notification claims it's from _Hartbreak Hartley_.

Josh looks up. Why's Chris texting him when they're literally sitting across from each other?

Chris just stares back at him steadily - _too_ steadily, the faintest hint of a flush on his cheeks. Matt’s disappeared somewhere and Chris is slouched in a chair, leaning back far enough that the front legs of the chair are off the ground. How he stays balanced like that is anyone’s guess. He doesn’t do anything except look, though, so Josh types in his passcode. 

**_**Was bored. Took some pictures in the bathroom.** _ **

**_**;)** _ **

Ah.

Chris is trying to kill him. That’s fine.

There’s a few more messages under the first few. They’re all image files because _of course_ they are, and Josh manages to scroll down just enough to get a glimpse of white bathroom tiles before he remembers there are other people in the vicinity besides himself and Chris.

Namely Sam, who’s still sitting beside him and looking a little concerned at his sudden change of demeanor. Josh hopes that he doesn’t look like he’s dying on the outside as well as the inside. Thank god he’d already been sitting with his arm in a good position to hide the sudden boner.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Josh says, trying to banish the image of Chris’ bare thighs and flushed cock from his mind. It doesn’t work, unsurprisingly. “Nothing at all, I’m all yours. Where was I?”

“You’re the one telling the story,” Sam answers with amusement in her voice.

“Right. So I was-”

His phone vibrates in his hand.

Josh valiantly tries to ignore it. “So I-”

His phone vibrates again.

Sam tips her head to the side. “Are you gonna answer that?”

“Nope,” Josh says, somehow managing to keep his voice under control.

There are still eyes on him that aren’t Sam’s and he can feel them burning a hole into the side of his skull. Josh plasters a casual smile onto his face, hopes it doesn’t look too obvious. He doesn’t know how to deal with this. Chris doesn’t _do_ this, not normally. This is like something _he’d_ do, like some kind of dirty, hopeless sexpot fantasy from the depths of his subconscious.

Josh downs the entirety of his red solo cup and tries not to choke. Then again, if he chokes and dies he doesn’t have to deal with the concept of Chris sexting him in a crowded room.

“Got your drink,” Beth says, reappearing out of nowhere.

Now that Sam’s distracted from Josh’s whole situation his self-control is rapidly eroding. He can’t quite stop himself from looking back down at the phone’s dimmed screen, from sliding his thumb on the glass to the bottom of the string of messages, where there’s a single text nestled amongst the remarkably well-posed pictures.

**_**If you don’t like it I can stop?** _ **

The problem here is that Josh likes it _too_ much. The photo above the text is Chris arched against the bathroom tiles, dick in one loosely curled hand. He hasn’t taken off any of his layers - still with the shirt and the hoodie and the other shirt and the jacket, and his jeans are only unzipped but somehow that makes it sexier, like a partially unwrapped present.

(Josh did not find an absurd amount of layers to be sexy until Chris..)

**_**Bro,**_** he sends back, can’t even begin to finish his thought. He catches Chris’ eye across the room though, doesn’t know what his face is doing but he hopes it somehow translates how off-the-hook hot this is.

There’s no text reply, but a second later his phone vibrates again and he sees another photo, this one a close-up of Chris’ bitten-red mouth and his fingers pinching one stiff nipple.

Oh, man. Josh wants to get his mouth on it, sends a slightly desperate stare at Chris that’s promptly ignored. Good god. Good _god_ , he’s not going to survive this. Why now?

Chris lifts his drink to his lips, unperturbed.

“-alive in there? Hello, Josh?”

A hand waves in front of his face.

“ _What?_ ”

“Jeez, chill out. Who’s texting you?”

“No one,” Josh says. “Your mom.”

“Great comeback. You just insulted the woman who raised you,” Beth says dryly.

His phone buzzes again.

Beth swipes at it but Josh is faster, keeps it well out of her reach. He refuses to traumatize her _or_ Chris, which is exactly what’ll happen if he lets her catch even a glimpse of what’s going on right now.

“No,” he says, and his phone buzzes again.

Josh turns his head to stare across the room again. For god’s _sake_. Another one? What did he do, have an entire half-naked photoshoot in there for the sole purpose of teasing Josh into an incoherent mess. It’s working, too.

“Josh, did you-” Sam’s saying, but his brain has well and truly left the room by now and he simply hands her the empty cup before he gets to his feet.

Chris looks up at him through the dark gold of his lashes without saying anything. Somehow it’s worse than anything he’s done so far and it takes every tiny shred of Josh’s self-control not to drop into his lap and grind down against him in front of everyone.

Instead he takes Chris’ wrist and tugs him to his feet, starts unceremoniously dragging him upstairs. Chris isn’t really resisting and when they get round the corner and out of view Josh presses him up against the wall to push their lips together.

“Take it you liked ‘em,” Chris mumbles. Josh feels the impressive erection pressed up against his hip and wonders if Chris got off while taking the photos or whether he’s been waiting longer than Josh has.

“ _Unbelievable_ ,” is all he can manage to say.

Chris moans against his mouth and Josh moves his hips in a quick, dirty grind that gets him even louder. Hands grab at his shoulders, tug him closer until there’s not even space for air between them and they really shouldn’t be doing this out here but all of Josh’s mental capacity is wrapped up in the thought of Chris taking sexy pictures for him.

Someone laughs on the stairs behind them and Chris twitches - just slightly, but it’s enough for Josh to break away from him for a second. He can’t breathe.

“Room,” Josh says. “Room _now_.”

“Room now,” Chris echoes, looking a little dazed.

It takes a few seconds to remember how his limbs work outside of doing things to Chris. He manages it eventually with some effort, and after a few extra minutes of kissing. Chris bites his lip and Josh’s entire body lights up with the sensation.

They can’t fuck out in the hallway, even as desperate as he is right now, so he makes his legs move towards his bedroom tucked at the back of the house. His door is shut tight and this time Chris presses him up against the solid wood, pushes a knee between his thighs. Josh rubs against it mindlessly, fumbles for the doorknob with the hand that isn’t planted firmly on Chris’ ass.

The door clicks open and they spill into the room only for Josh to stop in his tracks when he sees the lava lamp on his bedside table turned on, casting a sickly green glow over Emily’s unimpressed face and Jess’s slightly embarrassed one.

“Dude,” he says, taking in Mike’s sheepish expression.

“Sorry, man,” Mike says. “It was their ide - ow, what the _hell_ , Em.”

“I think I’m traumatized,” Chris mutters.

It’s not worth the effort trying to kick them out.

“You better clean this up when you’re done,” Josh warns, but there’s not a lot of venom in his voice as he tries to rapidly think of a plan B now that there’s a threesome in his room that doesn’t involve him. Seriously, what’s up with that?

Master bedroom? Locked, probably, considering what had happened the last time there’d been a party here. The car? No, there was a bunch of people out there when he last checked. Attic? The spider infestation probably isn’t very sexy. _Shit_.

“We could go to mine,” Chris says.

“Your dad’s gonna be there,” Josh replies. “ _Chris_. I’m dying here.”

His hand brushes against his phone when he shuts the door behind him.

Huh.

There’s an idea.

“New plan,” Josh announces.

“What?”

“This,” Josh says, tugs him in the other direction instead.

The bathroom is blissfully unoccupied. Josh clicks on the lights and then hipchecks Chris out of the doorway before he clicks the lock behind them. It’s not the most comfortable choice but every inch of his skin is buzzing with helpless arousal and it’s all he can do to hold on long enough to make sure no one’s going to bust in on them before he presses up against Chris’ spine.

"People are gonna hear," Chris hisses and Josh pushes up his layers to touch the soft skin of his stomach and ribs without replying at first, enjoying the contact.

“Then you’ll have to be quiet,” Josh reasons, running his fingers along Chris’ stomach to feel him shiver. “See how long you can hold your breath for, Cochise.”

“I’m not - _hng_.”

“What kind of an exhibitionist’s ghost possessed you, anyway? Didn’t think you were that bold.”

“Told you,” Chris says distractedly. “I got bored.”

“Bored doesn’t normally end in nudes,” Josh replies.

“You complaining, dude?”

“ _Hell_ no. I’m saving them for my personal collection. I'd print 'em out and frame them if I could.” Truth be told, his personal collection is less porn and more photos of Chris smiling or laughing when he thinks no one is looking, but it’s better for his reputation if Chris thinks it’s the former.

“You liked them that much?”

Josh looks up at that and catches the barest flicker of anxiety in Chris’ expression, is instantly bewildered by it because _of course_ he did, what the hell. He leans in to kiss him again. Chris is the most stupidly gorgeous thing he’s ever come across. How’s he meant to explain that without a powerpoint presentation handy, though?

A lightbulb comes on in Josh's head. 

It's a struggle to disconnect himself from Chris' mouth - the little bereft noise that Chris makes certainly doesn't help matters, but he manages it, licks at his own tingling lips before he moves.

Chris is pliant under his hands as he maneuvers them around to face the mirror, plasters himself against Chris' broad back. He’s so warm and solid under Josh, even when he slouches like that.

"What-" Chris starts, sounding like he's halfway to losing his mind already. 

Josh bites at his neck, soothes the sting with his tongue before he speaks. "You wanted to put on a show, now you can."

"That was just - it was just teasing, dude," Chris says as Josh's fingers push down his jeans and underwear far enough to expose his dick. He runs his fingers along the length with a featherlight touch, doesn’t take it any further even when Chris squirms up against him pointedly.

Josh is in perfect position to see Chris make eye contact with himself in the mirror, gaze skittering away from his own face to fix on Josh’s reflection instead.

"This is where teasing gets you, Cochise," Josh says. "You've got my attention. Now I want you to see what I have to deal with on a daily basis."

"Sadist," Chris mutters. His cheeks are red in the mirror, but his erection is still going strong when Josh wraps a hand around him and strokes. 

"Just enjoying the view. You should too."

"I don't-"

"Chris."

"I," Chris says, doesn’t get any further than that. 

When Josh looks up at his expression in the mirror it's unfathomably hot, the sheer unavoidable _want_ written all over Chris' face. He’d known in an off-hand kind of way that Chris wouldn’t have done it if he hadn’t wanted to but he hadn’t quite registered _how_ much Chris might like it.

Josh being Josh, he’s got to push Chris a little. "You're trying to tell me you didn't like taking those pictures? Didn't think about how pretty you were when you were posing for me, touching yourself like that? You get off on it, Chris?"

“No,” Chris says, but it’s weak. “Maybe.”

“It’s sexy,” Josh says. “ _You’re_ sexy.”

It doesn’t take much for him to return his mouth to Chris’ skin, scrape his teeth over the reddened skin. He’s still jerking Chris off, too slow to make him orgasm but enough to make him shiver and arch his spine, lower lip caught in his teeth.

"Look at you," Josh says, teasing mostly just because it's his nature but also because he knows it’s getting Chris even more worked up. "You're a dirty boy, Hartley."

"Shut up," Chris says, but it's breathy and not threatening in the slightest. He’s not very scary. 

Josh pinches a nipple and chooses to ignore him. “You should take a picture now,” he says. “How ‘bout it?”

“How about you move your hand,” Chris says.

Josh stops moving entirely.

“ _Josh_.”

“Get your phone out and take a photo for me, Christopher,” Josh says.

Chris seems to give in after that; out comes the expensive phone he’d gotten for his birthday and he fumbles for the camera app. He’s slow enough about switching out of the gallery that Josh notices he’s taken a lot more photos than he’d sent, and Josh hopes he gets to acquire those at some point too. _Nice_.

Josh is so tempted to bully him a little more but Chris is nearly vibrating with need at this point so he tightens his grip and starts stroking him properly. Chris’ hips are moving, tiny little motions against Josh’s hand like he can’t help himself, and Josh is so focused on making him feel good that he forgets about the camera until there’s an obnoxiously loud clicking noise.

“Yeah,” he breathes as it all rushes back. “’s it a pretty one?”

“I dunno,” Chris answers distractedly. “I just- _Josh_.”

Josh rubs his thumb over the head and it comes back slick with precum as Chris arches against him, making a soft, desperate noise. His stomach twists at the sound and Chris is breathing like he’s running a marathon as the phone camera clicks again.

If Chris doesn’t send these to him, he’s going to riot.

Josh tweaks at a nipple again, keeps his eyes on Chris’ flushed face in the mirror. It doesn’t look like he’s even consciously pressing the camera button - every now and then the hand with the phone in it will twitch and a photo is taken, but Chris is focused on watching himself in the reflection, in watching Josh touch him.

This is a whole new thing - something between voyeurism and exhibitionism and just _making_ Chris look at how unfairly beautiful he is, trying to force him to see himself the way Josh does. He’s never going to erase that streak of self-consciousness Chris has been holding onto since they were in middle school and he’d gotten that first pair of ill-fitting glasses, but he can sure try.

“Getting close?”

“Yeah,” Chris says, punctuating it with a particularly hard jerk of his hips. The camera clicks again. “Yeah, I’m - shit, I’m gonna-”

“Come for me,” Josh murmurs and Chris gasps and shudders on command, painting Josh’s hand and his own stomach with come. The idea that he can make Chris orgasm just like _that_ is heady and it’s all he can do to keep his hand moving until Chris shivers and pushes Josh’s fingers off of his oversensitive dick.

“I think I just died,” Chris says weakly.

Josh snickers, pushes his nose against the warm curve of Chris’ neck. “Want me to go find a satanic ritual or something to bring you back? You’d make a pretty hot zombie though, not gonna lie.”

“You’d just leave my corpse in the bathroom at a party while you go find one? Cold, dude.”

“I know I’m a hot muscly stud, but there’s no way I could carry you around and go looking for a magical resurrection spell,” Josh reasons. “I’d have to recruit a sidekick and do a _Weekend At Bernie’s_ , and then I’d have to explain why we have to carry your corpse around in the first place to whoever the poor person was.”

“Matt,” Chris says.

Yeah, Matt’s probably the only one that’d go along with it without letting slip to anyone. They’re all remarkably terrible at keeping secrets. “Right. Would you want Matt to know you died because you were sexting me?”

“...no,” Chris answers glumly.

“Exactly,” Josh says. “Sorry, bro, you’re staying in the bathroom.”

“Lame.”

This is exactly why Josh is convinced Chris is the perfect man. No one else is going to discuss the merits of where to dump a corpse during sex with him. There was that girl back in high school, but she’d lost interest after the first time, when he’d started discussing Dracula in detail. Chris _knows_ that Christopher Lee is always going to be the best prince of darkness.

A knock on the door makes Chris stiffen in his arms. "Nearly done in there?"

Chris is breathing fast and panicked but he's not saying anything, flush high on his cheeks and cock wet against his stomach. Clearly he's not going to be any help in this situation, especially with the deer-in-the-headlights expression, so Josh takes the reins. 

"Nope," he calls back, forces his voice into a casually bored tone. "Try a different bathroom, this one's reserved."

"Fuck," whoever it is mutters as their footsteps echo away. 

“Do you think they knew?”

“I don’t care if they did,” Josh answers blandly.

“What, you _want_ to get caught?”

“Eh,” Josh says.

“I don’t know what goes on inside your head sometimes,” Chris mumbles. “Here. This what you wanted?”

The phone is lifted into his eyeview and Josh is greeted with the picture taken just as Chris was coming, lips parted and red. The bare skin from his waist to where his layers are rucked up on his left side is smooth and unmarked, bar a scar on his hip from an accident with rollerskates from when they were kids, and Josh thinks he’s perfect.

He barely notices his own expression, barely notices himself in the picture at all other than to note the contrast of Chris’ pale skin against his own. The head of Chris’ flushed cock is peeking through his fingers, cum just starting to spill out.

Unbelievable.

“That’s not fair,” is all Josh can say. It comes out as more of a whine, but he’s right. It _isn’t_ fair for him to look that good, for a dumb shaky photo in a badly-lit bathroom to be that _hot_.

This is _Chris_. The man wore a mustard yellow suit to prom.

“Gonna send it to you when you’re working,” Chris says.

“Please don’t,” Josh says. “No, wait, please do. No, I’ve changed my mind. Yes?”

“How about I surprise you,” Chris says. “Meanwhile…”

Chris' hands go back to scramble at his clothes so Josh acquiesces to the unspoken request, fumbles with his own pants. He's been hard for so long it's turned into background noise and as he pulls his cock out it comes rushing back in a boiling wave of need, so loud he can barely hear his own harsh breathing. 

_Fuck_ , but this is so hot. How did he last this long?

He presses himself tight against Chris, lets the piercings rub against the cleft of Chris' ass. If only they had some lube squirreled away in here. Gotta hide some in the cupboard under the sink one of these days. Or buy a big-ass mirror for his room. He'd love to make Chris watch himself get fucked. Josh is definitely filing away that idea for later.

Chris must still be oversensitive because every thrust of Josh’s hips is punching a small noise out of him, quiet like he’s trying to keep himself silent as the head of Josh’s cock catches on his rim. The cum on Josh’s hand is drying tacky and he wipes his hand on Chris’ side, smirks at the disgusted noise that earns him.

He’d be fine with getting off just like this, still high off of earlier events. Chris’ ass is nice and it’s a shame he hadn’t taken any pictures of it along with everything else - there’s time for that later, though.

(There’s time for _lots_ of things later.)

“What do you-” Chris says, voice ragged. “I want to - let me-”

Rather than finish a sentence with any semblance of coherence he starts squirming and Josh steps back to let him get away this time, but Chris just twists around to drop down to his knees and takes Josh’s throbbing cock into his mouth, tongue rubbing up against the underside immediately.

He looks just as desperate to suck Josh off as Josh is to getting sucked and it’s _phenomenally_ attractive. Josh’s hand automatically goes to Chris’ hair, pets through the gel-stiff strands before hooking his fingers in it and tugging. Chris moans, muffled by the dick in his mouth.

Josh feels like he’s on fire from this whole ordeal. It takes him a few minutes of helplessly gasping at the ceiling before he remembers the floor-to-ceiling mirror on the back of the bathroom door and glances sideways to see what it looks like.

Sure enough, it’s a view.

_God_. Fuck. He’s gotta share it.

"Look," he orders as he thrusts into Chris' slack mouth. ”Look in the mirror and watch me fuck your mouth.”

Chris moans and the vibrations send shivers up Josh’s spine. He’s already close, tension building up his spine in an uncontrollable wave from waiting and waiting for far too long. Josh can feel his own knees shaking and Chris takes him further, until his nose is nearly touching skin. His gaze slides away from the mirror to look up at Josh instead, all molten heat and cloudy sky blue.

He’s so worked up that it doesn’t take long before his hand tightens in Chris’ hair and Josh is spilling down his throat, his brain going blissfully blank for a few long moments. Chris dutifully swallows around him, which doesn’t help matters.

“Wow,” is all he can think of to say as he slumps down to sit next to Chris on the cold bathroom tiles. Chris is looking a little glassy-eyed still and it’s up to Josh to reach over and rearrange his clothes so his bare ass isn’t getting frozen.

“Wow,” Chris echoes.

“You should do that more often.”

“I’ll think about it,” Chris says, leaning into him. He’s taking that as a yes.

“We could make a porno,” Josh remarks. "Wear masks so no one knows it's us."

“If we wear masks they're definitely going to know it's us," Chris says. "We're the only people here who'd do that."

"I dunno, Mike's been pretty kinky lately."

"I don't want to know, dude. I really don't."

"Would you let me take videos of you, though?"

A pause. "Yeah, maybe."

_Awesome_.

"Alright, that'll be ten fifty," Josh says, looking at the clock for the millionth time as he takes the cash from the customer in front of him. His break was supposed to be an hour ago, but his replacement hasn't shown up yet. It's earning him bonus points with the manager, anyway. He's showing initiative, or whatever the hell it is. Yay for him.

"I was hoping to find out more about your simplicity plan," she says. 

"Sure, I've got the pamphlet right here," Josh tells her, rummaging around in a drawer.

It's also the drawer containing his phone, and he sees it light up out of the corner of his eye.

_**Hey. Got bored again.** _

_**;)** _

"I have to go," he says abruptly to the confused customer. 


End file.
